


Of Mistletoe and Champagne

by hideeho



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Because otherwise what’s the point, Brief Jeaousy, Buck has it bad, Eddie has it bad, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Someone makes a move
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:15:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideeho/pseuds/hideeho
Summary: “How can you hate mistletoe?”“Easy.”“That’s not an answer. It’s tradition!”“It’s a stupid tradition.”
Relationships: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 400





	Of Mistletoe and Champagne

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doctornineandthreequarters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctornineandthreequarters/gifts).



At first he thought it was a fluke. 

It’s not as if Eddie was avoiding him last year when Buck was carrying around a sprig of mistletoe. No, Eddie was simply pulled into a hundred different directions with all the excitement of the surprise Christmas party. Perfectly understandable. It also helped that no one else caught Eddie under the mistletoe, no one that he saw anyway. 

Besides, it’s not as if Buck had grabbed it for the sole purpose of stealing a kiss. Maybe he had been _slightly_ hoping to finally feel the scratch of stubble against his lips as he pecked Eddie’s cheek, but that was it. 

Alas, no such luck. 

Which, again, was perfectly fine. No expectations. Woefully pathetic hope, but no expectations. Besides, there was always next year, right?

Cue 2020.

He’s not saying a global pandemic is the universe’s way of messing with him, but he’s not saying it’s entirely out of the realm of possibility. Not that he has thought about excuses to hang up mistletoe for a year, that would be ludicrous. He does have a life and some level of self respect. But the holidays have rolled around, decorations have gone on sale and an occasional thought crosses his mind now and then. 

He’s a grown man hoping to land a cheek kiss with the help of a plant. He used to have game, he’s sure of it. 

For now he’s just glad he has a mask to hide his irritation when Eddie pulls a raven haired beauty wearing a halo of mistletoe on her head from a stuck elevator. She’s instantly infatuated and of course she is. No mask on earth could hide Eddie’s beauty, the mask only working to draw attention to warm brown eyes framed by unfairly thick lashes. 

So when she motions to the mistletoe, leaning in to steal a kiss Buck explains the sudden burst of annoyance in his gut away at the fact she’s not even wearing a mask. In public! In 2020! 

He doesn’t bother to hide his sigh of relief when Eddie puts a stop to her with a blunt, “No.” 

“Hey, don’t look so glum, Buckaroo,” Chim says, seemingly coming out of nowhere. “They can’t all be in love with you. I’m sure you’ll catch the eye of the next damsel in distress.” 

Buck can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes him. Eddie shoots a questioning look over to him which he promptly ignores. At least his crush isn’t painfully obvious. That’s something, right? 

So Eddie didn’t want to kiss a random unmasked stranger. Hardly surprising given how seriously he takes everyone’s health. Except, it wasn’t just that. Turns out that Eddie Diaz simply despises mistletoe.

“How can you hate mistletoe?”

“Easy.”

“That’s not an answer,” Buck exclaims, stealing a piece of lettuce from Eddie’s plate and stuffing it into his mouth. “It’s tradition!”

“It’s a stupid tradition.” 

“I think it’s sweet,” Buck insists, because maybe despite it all he’s a romantic at heart. Or he’d like to be. He thinks he would be if he just had the right person. “Besides, no one hates mistletoe.” 

“I imagine cats do, what with it being poisonous to them and all,” Eddie states dryly, his smirk giving away his amusement. 

“So is holly, but I’ve seen you decorate with that,” Buck counters smartly, stealing more of Eddie’s food just to feel Eddie’s knee knock against his whenever he does. “Do you have a tragic mistletoe related backstory? It’s okay, you can tell me. This is a safe space.” 

“You’re such an idiot,” Eddie sighs with such impossible fondness Buck swears he can feel his heart swell. 

“You like me anyway.” Eddie rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t correct him. Buck will take that as a win. “I will get to the bottom of this!” 

“You can try.” 

So in the spirit of Christmas he plays dirty and calls Christopher. 

“Why doesn’t your dad like mistletoe?”

“Because no one should take romantic advice from a plant,” Christopher says matter-of-factly, just like a kid who has heard this many times before. “Dad says it creates a sense of obligation and pressure and that’s not fair. He’s really big on consent.” 

It’s so perfectly Eddie he wants to — he wants to — Well, he wants to kiss Eddie smack dab on the lips. With his consent, of course.

“So a little birdy told me you don’t like taking advice from plants. Does this extend to tea leaves? Because, I’ve read plenty of research that support…”

“Blog posts aren’t research, Buck,” Eddie smiles, bumping his shoulder against his own. “It’s just not for me. If I am going to kiss someone it’s because I want to kiss them. No traditions, no gimmicks. If I kiss someone it’s because I mean it.” 

It’s hard to tease him about that. He still does, because Eddie is beautiful all flustered, but it lacks any bite. 

So he tucks any lingering daydreams about stealing a kiss away and focuses on what he does have. Being in Eddie’s life, even if only as a friend, is in no way a consolation. 

The thing is in his heart he knows he’s not just a friend. Not even the most vicious of doubts that scratch away at his heart and mind can make him truly believe that Eddie is just humoring him, that he’s going to leave him like everyone else. Not when he’s sitting on a couch with his two favorite people, in a house that feels more like home than any place he has actually lived in. Not when Eddie is smiling and carefree in a way few people will ever get to see. 

No, he’s more than a friend. He might not have a name for it, but he’d happily die for whatever it is. 

This is more than enough. More than he had any right to have ever hoped for. 

“I can’t believe you’re still up, little man!”

“I’m not even tired,” Christopher states proudly, polishing off his glass of sparkling cider. 

“I am,” Eddie says beside him, not even bothering to stifle a yawn. 

“That’s because your dad is _old_ ,” Buck whispers conspiratorially, loud enough so Eddie is sure to hear him. Christopher is giggling his agreement, much to Eddie’s mock dismay. 

“Says the man with a gray hair.”

“It wasn’t gray! It was the lighting!” Buck wants to be outraged, but it’s hard when Eddie is laughing so hard he snorts. It’s a stupid ridiculous sound that he needs to hear again as soon as possible. They’re only a glass into the bottle of champagne, but Eddie’s cheeks are delightfully flushed, making his sharp smile seem even whiter than normal. 

The fluttering in his stomach has nothing to do with the champagne. 

He loves this man. 

It should be a scary thought, but it’s one that has been lurking for awhile, burying itself into the very marrow of his bones. Evan Buckley is in love with Eddie Diaz. Stupidly, recklessly, hopelessly in love with him. 

“Do I have something on my face?” 

“What,” Buck asks, scrambling to refocus after being caught lost in thought. 

“You were staring at me,” Eddie points out, entirely correct. 

“I was not,” Buck bluffs, which Eddie clearly realizes but fortunately time is on his side as he’s spared by the countdown beginning on the screen. 

Christopher is practically shaking with excitement as the numbers go down. Soon they’re all shouting in unison: “3...2...1...Happy New Year!” 

Eddie grabs Christopher up in a tight hug, before grabbing Buck by the arm to drag him into the hug. Christopher wiggles out of their grasp, declaring he needs to tell Henry the hamster Happy New Year with a burst of energy that has Buck feeling old for a half a second. 

“Happy New Year, Buck,” Eddie says softly, reaching out to cup his cheek and—

Oh. 

He’s kissing him. 

He tastes of champagne and something he can’t quite place, soft lips warm and plush against his mouth. He’s kissing him. _He’s kissing him._ And it’s...it’s...it’s what people do on New Year. It’s good luck or something. That’s all. 

“I thought you didn’t like kisses based on tradition,” Buck says as he reluctantly pulls back, his voice so breathless he barely recognizes it as his own. 

“I don’t.” 

“But you—“ 

“Buck,” Eddie interrupts gently, his name sounding as sweet as honey coming from those lips. “If I kiss someone it’s because I want to kiss them.” 

Oh. 

Well. 

This was promising to be a very good year.

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom has been one of the highlights of this year. I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciate every comment and kudos. Thank you all!


End file.
